


Only time will tell

by andonewillbringhisfall



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andonewillbringhisfall/pseuds/andonewillbringhisfall
Summary: Agatha has to decide between Baz and Simon, and spells herself into the future to try to find out the best outcome.





	Only time will tell

**Author's Note:**

> Another old fic originally posted on my Tumblr. Of all the fics I've written this one's actually one of my favourites, so I hope you like it. :)

AGATHA:

I don’t know what to do.

It should be the easiest decision in the world. It shouldn’t be possible not to be able to choose between the Mage’s Heir and the vampire. Good and evil, black and white, hot and cold. It shouldn’t be possible for the same girl to be drawn to both of them.

I love Simon, I really do. He’s one of the few friends I have here – one of two, to be exact – and I care about him, so much. I want to see him safe and happy, I want to see him with a home to go to and a family to love. I just can’t imagine myself in that family. Maybe I don’t love him the way everyone thinks I should.

And then, there’s Baz. The opposite of Simon in every way. Cold, hard, all sharp edges where Simon is soft. He walks around with a permanent sneer, his gaze steely, his posture impeccable, everything in its perfect place, while there is no pattern or structure to Simon. And I believe Simon, when he says Baz is a vampire. He has the look for it, the hair, the jawline, the pale skin. Most of all, he has that air of danger.

Simon is supposed to keep us all safe, and there couldn’t be a more well-meaning person for the job. Simon would never hurt me. Baz, on the other hand, is unpredictable. Breaking my heart would be the least of his crimes. If there’s even enough of that left in me to be broken. I don’t even know if I mean anything to him at all.

I should choose Simon. Everyone wants me to choose Simon. Simon would want to make me happy. But the past few years have made me wonder if he can. I’m supposed to choose him. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to Baz, because I’m not supposed to choose him, because he’s so different to Simon.

So I don’t know what to do, but I know that I can’t go on like this, staying with Simon because it’s the easy option, the path of least resistance. I want to make a real choice. I want to be sure, and there’s only one way to know how it will turn out.

I’m probably not even powerful enough to cast the spell. I don’t know if I have enough magic in me. I’d be happy to use it all up on this spell and end up Normal. Then I’d leave Watford and go back to my real friends, to the life that actually feels like mine, and I wouldn’t have to make this choice at all. I close my eyes, pick up my wand, and reach for my magic.

‘ **Only time will tell.** ’

***

I open one eye cautiously after a minute, after I’ve felt the magic rise up out of me the way I do when I’ve cast a spell, and everything is still again. The room looks unchanged; I’m not sure what I was expecting. I open the other eye and stand up, looking around. I can’t tell if it worked. All of my things are where I left them – so, if it did work, I know I don’t leave Watford – and Philippa’s side of the room is still ominously bare, not that I would have expected that to change.

I look down. There’s pixie dust scattered on my floor. A side effect of the spell…?

I tiptoe out of the room and close the door softly behind me. Maybe I should find Penny. Even if this is the future, I could tell her what I did and she’d understand. She’d tell me everything I need to know and I could go back and I’d know what to do. And if the spell didn’t work, and I’m still in the present, she’ll lecture me about why I shouldn’t have done this, and no real harm done. She’ll probably also tell me that I shouldn’t choose either of them. That if I’m this uncertain about them both, neither of them are likely right for me.

I know she doesn’t want me to be with Simon. And I certainly know Simon wouldn’t want me to be with Baz. But what do  _I_  want?

It’s Sunday, so there are no classes on today. I pass chattering groups of students in the hall, but I don’t see Penny, or Simon, anywhere. I go to Penny’s room and knock on the door.

‘There you are,’ she says, and immediately opens the door all the way and steps back, waiting for me to walk in. When I don’t, she tilts her head and frowns. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Uh… Do you know where Simon is?’ I ask.

She grimaces. I try not to read too much into it. ‘Probably at the pitch.’

‘Right. Thanks.’

So that explains the grimace. Simon must be watching Baz. I don’t know why he does it, or what he expects to find. It’s not like Baz is going to flash his fangs in the middle of a soccer game.

I head down to the pitch anyway. It’s probably a good thing they’re both down there, anyway, because it’ll save me having to look for both of them.

I immediately spot Simon’s curly head by the sidelines of the pitch. He’s standing – not even pretending to be surreptitious about his spying – and he’s grinning hugely. I roll my eyes. Even though they’re on opposite sides of a war, sometimes their fighting gets ridiculously petty. They’re the only ones who don’t seem to be tired of it.

I stop just behind him and we both watch Baz on the pitch, in his element. He’s the best player of the lot of them, by far. It’s kind of mesmerizing. Simon hasn’t even noticed that I’m here, and I don’t try to catch his attention.

The players are all huddled in the middle of the field, and I expect Simon to turn around to leave before they do, but he waits. I hope he won’t confront Baz, for whatever reason. And I don’t want to be here and make it worse if he does. I don’t even know which one I’m with. If I’m with either of them at all.

Baz walks straight over to us when the huddle breaks. I stiffen. Something’s going to happen, and I don’t want to be caught in the middle when it does.

‘Finally,’ Simon says, when Baz is almost across the pitch. ‘Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?’

Baz smirks. ‘Of course I know. You’re too infuriating not to notice.’

I hesitate.

Simon grins. It’s the same uncontrollable grin I used to see, when we were kids and he’d learned how to cast a new spell and he still couldn’t quite believe it was happening. That he was magic.

‘You love me.’

Uh…

‘I can’t imagine why,’ Baz grumbles, as he finally reaches us, and he stops walking right in front of Simon – they’re literally nose to nose – and then –  _what?_

They’re kissing.

Simon and Baz are kissing.

_What?_

I step back.

‘Where are you going?’

They’re still holding each other. Hands on waists and necks and in hair. Staring into each other’s eyes. Baz is trying to pull away. Unsuccessfully.

‘To shower.’

‘You’re disgusting.’

‘Exactly the point, Snow.’ The exasperation is there, in Baz’s tone, like always, but there isn’t even a trace of venom.

I take another step back.

That wasn’t a seeing-the-future spell, surely. This is some kind of alternate reality.

‘Fine.’ Simon pouts, kissing Baz on the lips again before letting him go. Baz turns away to go to the showers, so only I see the lopsided smile steal across his lips.

‘Agatha,’ he says, nodding at me, and I think I see him blush just a little bit.

‘Baz,’ I respond stupidly. He usually only calls me Agatha when he’s being nice to me and trying to piss Simon off. I don’t know what this means. I guess it means we’re friends, because we’re certainly nothing else in this reality.

‘Hey, Agatha,’ Simon says, his voice chirpy. I don’t know how long it’s been since I saw him this happy. ‘I’m glad you’re not Penny. I didn’t want another lecture on PDAs. But sorry you had to see that.’

‘Uh.’ What am I supposed to say? I want to ask him what crazy turn of events could possibly have led to this happening. But by the friendly way we’re all acting, I’m guessing future-Agatha already knows. ‘Yeah, uh, you should… you should listen to Penny.’

I force out a smile that probably looks more like a grimace, and walk quickly back across the Great Lawn. I want to bang on Penny’s door and ask her to explain. Instead, I head back to the refuge of my room. I stop inside the doorway, looking around.

I can see it now, I  _am_  in a different timeline – or at least an alternate universe – to where I was before I cast  **only time will tell**. There’s a different stack of schoolbooks on my desk, and new pictures of my friends (my Normal friends) on the wall behind it. Not to mention the inexplicable pixie dust on my floor. I walk over to examine the photos. We’re all wearing Santa Claus hats, so I know this must be taken over the Christmas break, the one that hasn’t happened yet. I look happy in the photo.

Maybe it shouldn’t matter that Simon and Baz are together in the future. Neither of them would have made me as happy as I am when I’m with my Normal friends. Maybe the answer really was that simple all along.

There are other photos. Me, Penny, Simon and Baz, out by the woods. Is it possible we’re all friends? And Baz takes  _selfies_  with us?

This is too weird. My head can’t even deal with this right now. I walk over to my bed, lie down and close my eyes.

 

PENNY:

Simon hasn’t been the same since Agatha broke up with him.

I don’t know how he didn’t see it coming. I don’t know why he didn’t think, when he saw her with Baz that one time, that their relationship just wasn’t the best thing for them anymore. He always has to try so hard to do the right thing, and it was up to her to realise that dating each other  _wasn’t_ the right thing.

Agatha hasn’t been the same since she broke up with him, either. And she hasn’t tried to go for Baz, which I think all of us were relieved about. She still watches him. She watches both of them with something like suspicion, and Simon doesn’t know how to deal with it.

‘Quit moping,’ I tell Simon, every time I see him at breakfast.

‘I just want to know why,’ he mumbles.

‘Then  _ask_  her. You’re my only two friends here, and I need you to get along.’

‘It’s because of Baz,’ he mutters, ignoring me.

‘I know this will come as a shock to you, but not  _everything_  is because of Baz,’ I say, trying to keep the impatience out of my voice. I can understand if he’s upset that his girlfriend broke up with him, but I’m constantly amazed by how he can make every conversation about his plotting roommate.

‘I saw them together, right when everything started to go wrong between us,’ he says.

‘I think you need to talk to Agatha about this, Simon.’

‘I’m going to have to fight him someday. I should get it over with now and get rid of him so she can’t choose him.’

He still thinks Agatha is his destiny. He thinks they’re meant to be together. He never stops to reconsider the things that he’s already decided.

‘Get rid of him?’ I ask warily. I don’t want Simon off killing vampires, in cold blood.

We’re interrupted by a loud sigh, and Agatha sits down across from us, dropping her plate on the table with a clatter.

‘Getting rid of Baz is  _not_  going to help you,’ she says.

‘Then what is?’ he asks, somewhat desperately.

Agatha says something under her breath, and then hunches over her breakfast.

‘What?’

‘Getting  _with_  Baz, apparently,’ she says, louder this time, still making eye contact with the table.

Simon stares at her incredulously. I almost laugh.

‘What do you mean?’ I ask, when it becomes clear that Simon isn’t capable of saying anything.

‘I cast  **only time will tell** ,’ Agatha says. ‘I wasn’t going to tell you.’

‘Crowley,’ I say, under my breath, as I realise what she means. I look at Simon.

He shakes his head, frowning. ‘What? You saw the future?’

‘Yes. I mean, I think so.’

‘That’s amazing,’ I say. ‘ **Only time will tell**  is a really advanced spell. That’s incredible.’

‘What did you see?’

‘You. And Baz.’ Agatha makes a face. ‘Kissing.’

There’s silence.

‘What.  _The fuck?’_

‘Yeah, my thoughts exactly.’ She stares across the table defiantly. ‘So that’s why I broke up with you. And now I’m waiting to find out how it happened.’

‘It’s not going to  _happen_ ,’ Simon growls. He’s gone completely red. ‘What the fuck? That’s… that’s…  _Baz?_  That’s impossible.’

‘Apparently not,’ Agatha says.

‘Wow,’ I say. I want to say that the spell must have gone wrong, because Simon’s right, this does sound impossible. Simon would never…  _Baz_  would certainly never… but the spell can’t have gone wrong. If Agatha hadn’t cast it correctly, it just wouldn’t have worked at all. Besides, everyone knows those two are obsessed with each other…

‘No,’ Simon says angrily. ‘ _No_.’ Abruptly, he pushes back his chair and stands up. ‘He’s up to something. I knew it. He wanted this to happen. I don’t know how – I don’t – I need to confront him.’

He stalks away. Agatha and I look at each other, and she sighs.

‘See? This is why. This is exactly why.’

I gesture towards Simon’s retreating back. ‘You really think it’s possible he’s into Baz?’

She watches him, scrunching up her nose. ‘Maybe. No. Not  _into_ Baz.’

‘But something.’

‘Yeah. Something.’

 

SIMON:

Baz is still in the room when I storm in. He’s just dressed and is looping his tie around his neck.

‘What did you do to Agatha?’ I snarl. I should have waited until he came out of our room, out of reach of the Anathema.

‘I didn’t do anything to your precious girlfriend,’ he says, cool as always, and straightens his tie. ‘Oh, that’s right,’ he adds, and smirks. ‘Ex-girlfriend.’

I really, really wish we weren’t in the room.

‘Well you did  _something_ ,’ I growl. ‘That just proves it. I don’t know if you like her or if you’re just trying to ruin my life, but you should  _stop_. This doesn’t concern you, or the war, or anything else.’

Baz raises an eyebrow and moves towards the door. ‘While I’d love to take credit for your heartbreak, I really didn’t do anything. I don’t know why you find it so hard to believe that you messed this up all on your own.’

‘You’re  _lying_. She thinks she saw the future. You messed with her spell.’

Baz snorts. ‘Honestly, Snow, are you hearing yourself? I can’t mess with her spell. And I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

I huff. ‘Just stop, okay? Leave Agatha alone. Leave  _me_  alone.’

‘I was happy to stay far away from you until you came barging in here.’ He rolls his eyes.

‘ _Aleister Crowley, you’re such a git_.’ I know I’m getting frustrated, and that doesn’t help, it never helps, not with Baz. Because Baz never loses his cool. And nothing I say is even going to put the smallest chink in his armour.

‘Thanks. The feeling’s mutual,’ he says dryly. ‘Mind if I go to breakfast now?’

‘I still don’t believe you, you know.’

‘Remind me again what I’m supposed to have done? I put a spell on your ex-girlfriend?’

‘No.’ I grit my teeth. ‘She used  **only time will tell**  and she saw  _us kissing_  and what the fuck, Baz? What the fuck did you do? And  _why_?’

‘Aleister Crowley,’ he spits, ‘you’re  _pathetic_.’ The door slams behind him.

 

BAZ:

Crowley, I hate him.

I hate him. I hate how he refuses to listen to what I’m telling him even when I’m being honest, and  _insists_  that I’m to blame for everything that goes wrong in his life. I hate how his first instinct is always to implode and pick a fight with me, always with me. I hate how he looks at me like I’m nothing more than a monster, I hate how he wears that stupid cross on his neck all the fucking time, I hate how he makes sure I know he’s wearing it. He probably doesn’t really even believe it can protect him from me, but he wears it anyway, and never takes it off, to make a point, to let me know just how evil I am. As if I would fucking hurt him. As if I would.

It’s stupid. Honestly, I shouldn’t even hate him, I can’t even really blame him for the way he treats me, as if I haven’t done everything in my power to make him think I despise him. I know that technically I started it. I know that he has no idea how it all makes me feel, he has no idea that every withering glare is like a punch to the gut, he  _doesn’t know_  that every second I spend in his presence makes it harder not to fall apart. So it’s not really his fault, he’s not trying to be cruel, he’s not trying to break my heart like this.

He thinks that nothing he says will hurt me, because he believes I’m heartless, a monster, inherently evil. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to me. And yet, still, sometimes he’s too cold, too careless, pushing me closer to the edge, slowly, excruciatingly. He’s killing me. He’s always killing me, and he does it without a shadow of remorse, and I hate him for it.

I wish that made it easier to stop loving him.

 

SIMON:

He has to be lying.

It’s exactly the kind of thing Baz would do. He’s been trying to get between me and Agatha since before we even started dating. He’s been trying to make me miserable since the day we met. What could he enjoy more than to watch Agatha leave me because of some bullshit spell? The only part I don’t understand is what Agatha saw in her vision, or whatever it was. I don’t understand why she’d see me and Baz together. I glare at the door. (As if. As if that would ever happen.) If he was going to mess with her spell, I’d expect her to see  _them_  together. He knows that would piss me off the most.

I shake my head and slump onto my bed. I don’t understand. I should have asked Agatha to explain it better. What exactly did she see… Crowley, I don’t even want to think about it.

None of this makes any sense. The only thing that does make sense is that Baz is out to get me. And so I have to use that to understand all the other things.

 

BAZ:

It takes me two classes before it finally hits me.

Agatha saw the future. And in the future, she saw me and Simon together. And I did not mess with the spell.

I can’t think about what that means. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Because there’s going to be some other explanation.  _Of course there’s going to be another explanation_  and I’d be a fool to doubt it. I’m not that thick. Of course I know. That doesn’t mean I can stop thinking about it, and, shit, I wish it had never occurred to me.  _Shit._

 

SIMON:

I’m not sure what I should be doing now, trying to reason with Agatha, or trying to figure out what Baz is up to. I don’t think Agatha will listen to me. She hasn’t listened to me up until now, and if I can sort out the Baz problem, maybe she will come back to me.

I just don’t know how to sort out the Baz problem. He seems to be avoiding me twice as vehemently as usual, if that’s possible. He’s not going to tell me what he’s up to, so I have to figure it out myself. But I need a better strategy than following him around the Catacombs.

I search the books on his desk for anything that doesn’t seem relevant to the topics we’re studying in class. I go to the library and read about spells for seeing the future and spells for making other people think they’ve seen things they haven’t. None of them seem like anything Baz would dare to try, certainly not at school under the watchful eye of the Mage, not for something this unimportant. And even if he had, the one thing that I just can’t explain is why Agatha would see me with Baz.

I wince at the thought.

 

AGATHA:

I’m starting to wish they would actually get together.

At first I was hurt by the idea that they would choose each other, and neither of them would want me. At first I regretted that my indecision was going to make me lose both of my choices. Maybe I was also relieved that I wouldn’t have to choose. That whatever I did, I wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

I was just terrified of being alone. I’m starting to get used to it now, and maybe it isn’t so bad. I’m not just Simon Snow’s girlfriend anymore. I’m Agatha Wellbelove. So maybe I don’t mind so much. Maybe this is what I should have done all along. What I do know, though, is that Simon’s constant muttering and glaring death rays at Baz is starting to get old.

Well, it got old years and years ago, but now I just think that enough is enough. Maybe they  _should_ get together, and then we’d all finally get some peace from them.

 

PENNY:

Simon is still insisting that Baz is behind his breakup with Agatha. I think that he would rather blame Baz than believe that Agatha just doesn’t want to be with him.

I keep thinking about what Agatha said, about her spell. I don’t know what’s more unlikely; that it went so wrong somehow as to show her what it did, or that Baz and Simon actually get together in the future.

Simon follows Baz to the football pitch and watches all his games, like we’re in fifth year again. At first he would spend hours in the library looking for information, but now he’s gotten tired of that, and instead he spends that time updating me on his conspiracy theories.

‘That’s just the one thing I don’t understand,’ he keeps saying. ‘Why would she see  _me_  and  _Baz_? What’s the point of that? Who would come up with something like that?’

I sigh. ‘Simon. Maybe you should let it go.’

‘I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about it…’

I sigh again.

Maybe Agatha just made the whole thing up.

 

SIMON:

I try, one more time, to get the information out of Baz.

‘It’s already done,’ I say, cornering him outside our room (I don’t want the Anathema to protect him this time). ‘Agatha and I are done. So you might as well tell me, just to gloat. Wouldn’t you like that?’

‘I would love to, Snow, but I’ve got nothing to gloat about.’ He’s on the stair below me, and for once we’re the same height. I take advantage of this, shoving his chest so he’s back against the wall. I glare into his eyes (grey, and dark, and icy).

‘Just tell me.’

He doesn’t fight me, turning his head away. ‘I’m tired, Snow.’

‘I’m tired of  _you_.’

He snorts. ‘Great, then let me go and we can both get away from each other. Win-win.’

He won’t tell me anything. Maybe he’s not lying. Maybe he really didn’t mess with Agatha’s spell. Penny says it’s not even possible to do that. I need to talk to Agatha, find out where she was when she cast the spell, find out for sure that no-one could have known about it or tried to ruin it. And find out what exactly happened in her vision… I glance down at Baz’s mouth (right now, small and grey, a hard line. And uncomfortably close to my face.) and I push myself back against the door to the room.

He probably saw that. Shit, why did I do that?

‘Fine,’ I spit, and push past him, down the stairs. Aleister Crowley, if he noticed that, I will never live it down.

Focus, Simon, focus. I need to talk to Agatha.

 

BAZ:

Snow might not believe me that I didn’t mess with Wellbelove’s spell, but I know it, and now I need to figure out what it means.  _I know_  there’s another explanation. I know Snow wasn’t thinking of kissing me just now, not even close. I have to find the other explanation so I can stop fantasising about the smallest of possibilities. So I can get rid of that stupid little hope. And maybe so I can tell Snow the real explanation for what Agatha saw, and he’ll stop following me around with that suspicious glare, and he’ll stop fucking  _thinking about_  the idea of us kissing. I can’t stand the idea of him thinking about it. Not like that, not with that look on his face, that look of utter loathing.

I head down to find Wellbelove, and find her up on the ramparts. Probably secretly texting her Normal friends. I hear voices before I see her, and I realise that Snow has beat me to it. I wait below the ramparts, listening.

‘Simon, has it occurred to you that I might have actually seen the future? The real future?’ She sounds tired.

‘I’m not saying anything, I’m not trying to accuse Baz, I just need to know what happened. What you saw.’

Good, I might not even have to talk to her myself.

‘Fine,’ she says. ‘Baz was on the pitch, just finishing up a game, and you were on the sidelines. And you were smiling, I think, and then he came over – and neither of you noticed me standing right behind you – and you said something like ‘finally’, and then you kissed.’

‘Who kissed who?’ Snow asks. I can hear him cringing. (Also, it’s who kissed  _whom_.)

I don’t know why it matters, but I need Agatha to say it was him. That he kissed me first. (As if that would ever happen. As if.)

‘I don’t know. It was mutual. Or maybe it was you. And then Baz said he was going to take a shower, and you wanted him to stay – Simon, this is so fucking weird.’

‘You’re telling me,’ he mutters.

There’s silence. I wish I could see how they’re standing. I wish I could see his face. (No, no I don’t. I really don’t.)

‘Alright, then what?’

‘Then he left and said hello to me, and I talked to you, and I went back to my room and found photos of us – of all of us, me and you and Baz and Penny – like we were all friends. And then I went to sleep – at least, I think I slept – and I was back in the present.’

‘And we were – I mean, we were dating? Or what?’

‘Looked like it. You seemed happy. If that helps.’

They’re silent again.

What if Agatha really did see the future? (The other explanation –  _I know_  – but I can’t think of one. I can’t think of any other explanation.) But there isn’t… there’s no possible turn of events that could make all the stars align like that, there is no trajectory from this point that could lead to Snow and I being together. It just doesn’t exist. (But what if…)

‘Simon?’

‘Yeah?’

She speaks hesitantly. ‘Do you… like Baz?’

‘ _No._ ’ He couldn’t have answered more quickly, or more certainly, if he’d tried. ‘Crowley, Agatha,  _no_. Merlin. No.’

Alright, Snow, I get the point.

‘I like you,’ he continues. ‘I think. I think I like you.’

‘You think?’

He doesn’t say anything.

‘Because it’s okay if you don’t,’ Agatha says. ‘You don’t always have to do what everyone expects you to do.’

‘Is that what you learned in the future?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, exactly.’

‘Okay.’

Okay? What does that mean? Seems Snow is unclear about everything  _except_  how he feels about me. (Three ‘no’s. Was that really necessary?)

‘Okay,’ Agatha repeats, and I take my cue to quietly step away before either of them can make a move to leave.

 

SIMON:

I made a mistake.

I believe now that Baz had nothing to do with what Agatha saw in her future spell. Penny was right when she said he couldn’t have done it, and besides, Agatha told me that she was in her room when she cast it, and hadn’t said a word to anyone about what she planned to do. Baz can’t get into the girls’ dorms, so he couldn’t have been anywhere near her at the time. And he would have been at the football pitch at the time. With a quick word to the coach, I confirm that he hasn’t missed a game all year. He’s got an alibi.

So that means Baz had nothing to do with the spell, and that means he didn’t know anything about it until I accused him. But I  _did_  accuse him, and I told him what Agatha saw, and that means he’s thinking about it. Or at least, he’s thought about it. He’s thought about the concept of me and him being boyfriends in the future, making out by the football pitch. I never should have said anything.

I was angry before, and suspicious, but now I’m mortified. Every time he walks in the room, every time he looks at me (or, usually, doesn’t look at me) I wonder if he’s thinking about it. I know I am. I’m thinking about it, all the time. Every time I try to understand what was going on in Agatha’s vision, I have to actually think about the vision, and try to understand what it looked like. And that means picturing Baz kissing me, an image that I’ll never be able to wipe out of my mind. It’s a constant struggle  _not_  to think about it. And I usually lose.

I look at Baz across the classroom, just as he looks away. Normally he’d hold my gaze and curl his lip, but today he turns his head away. The last thing I want is to know what he’s thinking. I realise my gaze has dropped to his lips again. And I’m wondering if they would be soft and warm, or cold (like Baz’s heart). (But if they were cold, what would that feel like?)

I’m blushing as I remember to turn my eyes back to the front of the room. I just hope that Baz doesn’t know what I’m thinking.

 

BAZ:

I still haven’t found the other explanation.

All I know is that Simon Snow blushes every time he sees me. All I know is that he stares at me across classrooms with something other than loathing, and that might just be confusion, but it’s unsettling to say the least. All I know is bronze curls and blue eyes and moles scattered like constellations that are all I see when I close my eyes, and I can’t keep it at bay anymore, I’m hoping, I’m hoping there’s a future where we’re together and I’m friends with his friends and he’s happy with me.

It’s so hard to remind myself that Snow and I are destined to hate and fight each other (is the future ever really set in stone?) and that all of that is impossible (but is anything ever really impossible?).

 

SIMON:

Sometimes I used to dream about the homes I’ve stayed at, old creaky beds and grey sheets and all these kids, strangers who didn’t know what it was about me that scared them. Sometimes I would dream about Watford, about walking through the grounds with Penny and slaying that dragon and staying at Agatha’s place over Christmas. Sometimes I’d dream about scones (those were usually the best dreams). Other times I’d have nightmares about wars and explosions and being lost and unable to find my way back to the World of Mages.

Lately my dreams have been changing. In my dreams I feel my fingers slipping through soft black locks of hair, and my hands on the small of his back, his skin cold. I see grey eyes framed by long graceful lashes, right up close, so close I can see every detail, and every speck of blue and green hidden in his eyes. In my dreams we’re talking, sometimes holding hands, sometimes standing together by the window of our room and quietly watching as the sky turns darker.

If those are dreams, then my dreams don’t end when I wake up.

*

‘Penny, she saw the future. What if it’s true? What if I actually date Baz in the future?’

‘I’m impressed, it only took you about a month to think of that possibility.’

‘What do I do?’

She shrugs. ‘That’s up to you. Date him?’

‘But I don’t…’ I huff. ‘I don’t like… how can I  _date_  him? He’s my enemy.’

‘Does he have to be?’

I frown.

‘Maybe a better question is do you want him to be?’

‘No…’

‘Then maybe try to start there? Start by not being enemies. Take it slow.’

‘Okay. Yeah, okay. I can do that.’

*

Apparently I can’t. Not without Baz’s cooperation, anyway. I try to take it slowly, like Penny suggested, saying good morning rather than grimacing in his direction, smiling when we make eye contact instead of gritting my teeth, but all my efforts seem to cut straight through him. He never greets me in return, either curling his lip at me before turning away or ignoring me entirely when I try to speak to him.

‘Goodnight, Baz,’ I say into the darkness, and am met by a cold silence.

‘Hi, Baz,’ I say when we pass in the hallway. Instead of responding, he walks on, letting his shoulder thump against mine. I stop the growl in my throat.

‘Sweet dreams,’ I try one night.

‘Thanks, Snow, guess I’ll be dreaming about your death tonight.’

‘Fuck you,’ I whisper into the darkness.

I’m tempted to give up, but I decide to try a new tactic.

Usually I’m the first one up and out of the room in the mornings, as I like to get to breakfast as early as possible, but the next morning I stay sitting on the edge of my bed, waiting for Baz to get dressed.

‘Can we talk?’ I say once he comes out of the bathroom. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it.

‘What do you want, Snow?’ He crosses his arms.

When it becomes obvious he isn’t going to sit down to have this conversation, I stand up too.

‘Look, I don’t want to fight anymore.’

His stare is cold. ‘This might be news to you, Chosen One, but you don’t always get what you want.’

I sigh. Baz hasn’t changed at all since Agatha’s revelation. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for weeks and here I am, trying to make nice with Baz instead of making a point of showing him how much I hate him. And yet he’s still acting exactly the same. If nothing has changed in all this time, how could it possibly change so much as to make Agatha’s vision come true?

‘It’s not news to me,’ I respond hotly. I feel myself slipping back into the usual antagonism, and I let go. It’s no use. ‘I know that. I just thought – I thought –’

‘You thought? Now that  _is_  new,’ Baz cuts in.

‘This is hopeless,’ I exclaim, stepping back. ‘Why do I bother with you?’

‘Good question, Snow. I’m wondering the same thing.’ He strides over to the door and lets it slam shut behind him.

Okay, alright, fine. Sorry, Penny. I know she would warn me against doing this, but there’s no use trying to get through to Baz. There’s no point trying to be nice, trying to be patient. There’s only one way to get to the bottom of this.

I grab my wand off the desk and point it at my head.

‘ **Only time will tell.** ’

***

I can tell immediately that the spell has worked, just by the way the room looks. For one thing, my bed is impeccably made – with hospital corners – this has to be Baz’s doing. I see a pair of his shoes lined up perfectly next to the edge of my bed. He would never venture onto my side of the room if he could help it, let alone leave his things there. The curtains are closed, even though I always make a point of opening them first thing in the morning, and it’s been years since he complained. (I guess this confirms that the sunlight really does bother him. I feel a twinge of satisfaction.)

Shit, the longer I stand here, the more convinced I am that we’re actually dating in this future.

 _And how do you feel about that_? I can imagine Penny asking. I feel unnerved, but I don’t know what that means.

I open the door cautiously and head down the stairs. I’m alert, half expecting Baz to show up around any corner. And I have no clue how he’s going to behave, and what the protocol is. What I’m supposed to do in response. I also don’t know what happens if the future people figure out that they’re a vision in my spell. Or are they real, and my actions can actually change the future? I should have thought this through. Does this mean I have to play along and act like I’m Baz’s boyfriend, in case I screw things up?

I pass Dev in the hallway. He gives me something between a nod and a grimace. Friendlier than normal, but still not friendly.

I find Agatha out on the lawn, sitting with a group of girls I vaguely know from some of my classes.

‘Simon!’ she calls out when she sees me. I walk over hesitantly. ‘Are you okay? Do you want to sit with us? I thought you were going to work on your assignment today.’

I was? ‘Oh.’ Agatha seems different. For one thing, I didn’t know she was friends with all these girls. Maybe she wasn’t, until we broke up. She looks happier. It makes me realise how  _un_ happy she was before – is now, I mean.

‘Are you looking for Baz?’ one of the girls asks.

‘Uh, y-yeah.’

A few of them start giggling. I look on in bafflement.

‘Well, good luck,’ Agatha says as I turn to go back into the castle.

I wander around the hallways, looking for Baz. I wonder if I’ve actually replaced future Simon, and where he is now. I wonder if a few months from now I’m going to have an assignment due and plan to work on it one day, only to blink back into existence just in time to realise I’ve only got hours left before I have to hand it up.

Finally, I wind up back in our room, and find Baz sitting at his desk. He looks up when he hears the door open.

‘Hey, you’re back early.’

He’s speaking to me. And smiling, if somewhat questioningly.

‘Uh, I’m, am I?’ Slowly I step into the room and let the door swing shut behind me.

Baz raises an eyebrow. ‘Did you finish the assignment?’

‘N-no…’ I’m waiting for him to move, or do something, or give something away, but he’s not giving me any clues.

‘Are you going to come in?’

I take another step into the room, but he hasn’t given me anything to go on, any way to know how I’m supposed to act. If we’re dating, do I go to him? But what if we’re not, should I just stay on my side of the room and mind my own business?

‘Simon, are you okay?’

 _Simon_. My breath catches.

He gets up out of his chair and walks over to me. His eyes are steady on mine, searching my gaze. I train my gaze on his forehead. (It’s too much.)

He takes me by the elbows. Gently. ‘Simon?’

I take a deep breath. (It’s all too much.) I still can’t look him in the eyes, and I realise I’m looking at his mouth now.  _Shit, not again._

And then he kisses me.

I’m standing here, frozen in shock, my arms hanging stiffly by my sides, and Baz is kissing me.

‘Simon,’ he murmurs, and I feel the word hum across my lips. I shiver.

He pulls away. ‘You said you were going to finish your assignment,’ he says. My eyes are still closed. I force them open. The corner of his mouth turns up in a self-satisfied smirk. I realise I must be blushing, and he can probably feel the magic under my skin like an electric current where he touches me.

‘I –’ I’m speechless. This is  _crazy_.

‘I know you love me, Snow, but you have to keep up with your schoolwork.’ His hand goes to my cheek. It’s so cold (I’m burning up here.).

‘I –  _love you_?’ I splutter.

He frowns.

Shit, that was rude. And probably out of character.

‘I – yes. Yes,’ I say. ‘ _Yes_.’ More confidently.

His eyes go wide.

I’m not following this conversation at all, and I don’t know what he’s thinking. Maybe if I get to live this day again in the future, when this time actually comes, I’ll understand better.

‘Simon Snow,’ Baz says, his voice low, urgent. ‘I’ve been in love with you since fifth year. Maybe before. I’ve always loved you.’

‘What?’ Did he say  _fifth year_?

‘I’ve  _always_  loved you,’ he repeats. ‘Okay? Do you understand that?’

 _No_. Fuck no, I don’t.

‘Yeah?’ I say faintly.

‘Okay,’ he says, and kisses me on the cheek, and leaves the room.

***

I spin around and stare after him, bewildered. Where did he go? Why was he getting so intense? And why didn’t he kiss me on the mouth like before…

I back up a few steps and collapse on my bed, still watching the door.

Merlin and Morgana, it’s true. I date Baz in the future. And we kiss. And he  _loves_  me, and worries about me, and calls me by my first name.

Aleister Crowley, I’m living a charmed life.

*

He doesn’t come back. I lie there for what feels like hours, and then it finally hits me. The shoes at the end of my bed are gone, and the curtains are open again, and my bed is as messy as always.

I’ve gone back to the present. And I think I know why he left the room like that, and why he was saying all those things.

He was trying to make sure the future would actually play out the way I saw it.

 

BAZ:

Snow is lying on his bed when I return to the room in the evening. He’s spread out on his back, staring dazedly at the ceiling, but he scrambles up as soon as he notices me walk in.

‘Baz!’

I thought he’d decided I was hopeless. I thought he was giving up on whatever it is he’s been trying to do.

I’m torn. I want to encourage him, because what if he’s taken Agatha’s words to heart and is trying to see where things could take us? But what if I’m wrong – and I’m probably wrong – and I just end up tormenting myself further?

‘Is it true that you’ve been in love with me since fifth year?’ He says this too brightly, his voice too high.

Then his words sink in. ‘ _What the fuck_?’

‘Is that a… no?’

He’s watching me carefully. I feel like my knees might be about to give out.

‘What do you  _think_ , Snow?’ I don’t know what to say. I don’t know. Shit. How does he know?

‘I think…’ His voice shakes, just a tiny bit. ‘I think you’ve been in love with me since fifth year – or maybe before then – that’s what you said. You said you’ve always loved me.’

‘ _I said no such thing._ ’ I’m shaking too.  _How does he know?_  And what’s going to happen to me now?

‘You did. You told me.’

Shit, I don’t know how he knows, but he does. Is he going to use this to torment me? Or…  _No. Stop._  I force my feet to move towards my bed. I sit on the end of it, facing away from him, and start unlacing my shoes. I don’t know what to do.

‘Baz…’

‘ _What._ ’

‘Is it true?’

‘You’ve apparently made up your mind already.’ I yank off my right shoe and it flies out of my grip, landing on the floor between our beds. I ignore it, focusing on the other one.

From the corner of my eye, I see Snow stand up and bend down to pick up the shoe. He puts it down on the floor next to me. I can’t look at him. I pull off the other shoe and place it on the floor. Snow is crouched down next to me, gazing up at me with those earnest blue eyes. I stare at my hands, folded together in my lap.  _I don’t know what to do._

‘Baz, I need to hear you say it.’

‘Why? So you can torture me with it? So you can gain the upper hand when we have to fight each other?’ I look up and meet his eyes defiantly. ‘ _Simon Snow, you’re killing me._ ’

‘I’d rather be…’ He bites his lip and mumbles the rest of the sentence. ‘I’d rather be kissing you.’

I can’t breathe.

‘None of that is why,’ he continues. He straightens up, and in half a second he’s sitting right next to me on the bed. I flinch away from him. ‘I went to the future, I cast the same spell as Agatha. That’s how I know. You told me you love me, and I think you knew I was from the past, and that’s why you told me. So, by the way, in the future, if you ever think I’m acting weird, you have to tell me you’ve loved me since fifth year to make sure it still happens.’

He wants it to happen. He does. Simon Snow wants to be with me. I think. I think that’s where this is going.

‘I saw us together…’ He swallows. ‘And I liked it. Baz, I want that.’

Aleister Crowley, I can’t breathe.

He’s still talking. ‘Is – is that what you want? Can I be your boyfriend?’

I take a deep breath, and look into those blue eyes.

 _Simon Snow, my boyfriend_.

‘Yes. Fuck yes.’

 

***

 

AGATHA:

I’m surrounded by pixie dust.

‘Penny, remind me never to come hang out in your room again. I have an empty bed in mine.’

We’re supposed to be studying, but the school year is almost over, and what do I need good grades for anyway? Apart from visiting my friends occasionally, I’m planning on leaving the World of Mages behind next year. I lie back against the wall, and promptly hop off the bed when my hair fills with pixie dust.

‘Seriously, how do you stand it?’ I cross to Penny’s side of the room and sit down next to her. On my way, I notice a photograph lying on her desk.

‘Hey, when did you print this off?’ It’s a picture of the two of us, plus Simon and Baz, outside the woods. I took the photo on her phone a couple weeks ago.

‘I didn’t print it off, exactly. Probably a waste of magic, but I like it.’

I stare at the picture.

‘Hang on, what day is it? It’s Sunday. Baz has a game today… the pixie dust!’

‘What?’

‘Can I borrow this?’ I hold up the picture.

‘Sure…’

‘I have to leave,’ I say, and run out of the room. Past-Agatha is about to show up. I’m sure this is the right day.

I pin the photo up on my wall, next to my pictures of my Normal friends. I’m not sure if it matters, if it’s important, but I need Agatha from the past to see that we’re all friends, better friends than we were before and I’m not going to lose anything I need by breaking up with Simon. And I have to break up with Simon, because that was the only way I could have found myself, and the only way Simon and Baz were going to be happy.

I glance out the window. It’s probably almost time. Pixie dust falls from my hair as I sprint out of the room.

‘ _Only time will tell_ ,’ I hear, as the door closes behind me.


End file.
